


Back Alley Pick-Up

by BloodMooninSpace



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Brief non-explicit OFC kink scene, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Neither SSN nor RACK compliant kink, Under-negotiated Kink, interrupted kink scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-28 19:13:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19400593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodMooninSpace/pseuds/BloodMooninSpace
Summary: This was supposed to be a meet cute, with Bucky picking Clint up at a kink function at a bar.Instead, this is scuffed up and tarnished version of romanticism, where Bucky sweeps in and makes it better for Clint, when the OFC domme has to leave for a family emergency.I like this, and I like the way it turned out.





	Back Alley Pick-Up

Kate had noticed that he was getting clumsy again. Time to acquire some bruises on purpose so that he could feel his edges again.

Clint glared at his closet, trying to decide what to wear. He needed to pick someone up, have some fun, and go home. Not in the mood to play it sluttier, not the mesh top or the body glitter. Tonight isn't about getting drunk and dancing.

Tac pants, kerchiefs, black and grey in the right pocket, light blue in the left.

Clint ran his fingers fondly over the deep plum leather of his custom cuffs and chest harness before slipping the cuffs in a pocket on each leg of his tac pants and buckling on the harness. 

Clint snagged his clingy black fleece off the top of his closet door and tugged it on over his head.

His club boots were hard to find. One of them was in his laundry closet, and the other was under his bed — heavy, chunky heels, buckles that were aesthetic, but comfy. Not combat boots, but aesthetically related.

Looking in the mirror, Clint wasn't entirely happy with his reflection. His hand shook as he applied eyeliner and mascara, and ran the brush for a quick dusting of purple glitter. Tonight he's fishing for someone who will put him down hard, and most of them like the tear tracks that cheap mascara makes. 

A final pat down of his pockets and Clint is ready to go. Lube, check. Cash, check. Condoms, check. Quick release clips, check. Emergency shears, check. Washable rope, check. 

Clint took a deep breath and then headed for the door. He locked it behind him with his spare key and tucked it back on the trim nail behind the loose board on the doorframe. 

* * *

They split a room at a hotel a few blocks away, and he insists that she warm him up before he lets her tie him down. 

They are full swing mid-scene, and he is just starting to feel really good when her phone rings and she swears. Mel answers it, and Clint can hear the hospital in the background, he knows hospitals. Clint catches the beleaguered nurse asking if this is Melanie Cartwright. 

Mels is white as a ghost and shaking when Clint takes the phone away from her. 

“Where am I sending her?” He takes down the information, gets a cab from the app on her phone, enters in the hospital the driver will be taking her to and starts to collect her stuff. 

“But I can’t leave you like this; you could drop, I would be --”

“I promise not to leave before I’m ready. I’ll be fine Mels, get to your brother, it sounds serious.” 

* * *

Clint pulls himself together. He manages to collect his things, and then he stumbles out of the side door of the hotel after dropping the keys off in the box at the end of the hall. 

In the alley, someone hits him from his blind spot, and he has a face full of building before he is aware of being attacked. Damn, he needed to have a good scene before something like this happened. 

* * *

Most of the time, he still thought of himself as the asset. 

He knows a lot about kink. He's been tied down and used by men who wanted the fist of hydra to suck them off. Since the helicarriers, he's done some research, and he knows that kink is something a lot of people like, and other people need. 

But to find one of the Avengers looking like a wreck, with a leather harness on, and his back freshly strapped -- 

The asset can feel the echoes of Bucky Barnes. Bucky Barnes got laid whenever he pleased, and never left a girl wanting. 

* * *

A hand grabbed him by the shoulder and flipped him, the other coming up to bracket the base of his throat. 

"Do you know who I am?"

Clint looked down a long forearm under a bulky jacket and trusted what he felt, the cool, slick, press of metal. The bright blue eyes. And he answered.

"Yeah, but I think if you wanted to hurt me, I would already be dead. And I'm too hard up not to take what I can get." Clint fingered the cuffs he hadn't taken off yet. "That is, if you're offering."

* * *

The asset can feel Bucky's reactions so close to the surface, and despite Bucky always chasing skirts, the asset knew what to do with a man's body. The asset wanted to let the memories out to play, under his control. 

"What were you looking for?" He asks Clint.

"I wanted to get tied up. I wanted to fly, and I wanted to find my edges again." Something passes over Clint's face, an expression too fleeting for the Asset to read properly. But Clint had dropped his jacket on the ground, and it was time to take him home. 

The asset pulled zip ties out of one of the cargo pockets in his pants and threaded one through the D-ring on one cuff, then through the O-ring on Clint's chest harness on the same side. He repeated the process on the other arm, then bent over and picked up the fleece, and pulled it over Clint's head.

Then the asset sets off for the apartment building owned and maintained by Clint Barton.

* * *

Clint knows he's in rough shape. Mels had taken him pretty far down before her phone rang, and then the winter soldier, Steve's Bucky Barnes himself, jumped him in the alley behind the hotel. 

It is a little unsettling when Barnes takes him back to his building. It's a little worse when he pulls down the fire escape and takes Clint to his apartment by the back way. But it does feel delicious when his fleece is stripped up over his head, and he is shoved face down on his own bed. 

"Did she take you far enough down, or do you need some more pain?" Clint groans when he hears the question.

"I maybe need more." Clint wriggles when warm fingers are trailing up his spine, a brush of hair on his shoulder and then a husky voice in his ear.

"Maybe? I need a better answer than that."

"It would have been enough already without an interruption, but as it is --yeah. I need some more."

Clint's nerves buzz with anticipation when his belt is undone and pulled from his pants. Clint wriggles a bit when his pants and underwear are pulled down to his knees. Clint digs his fingers into the bedspread when Barnes snaps the belt against the bed. 

"Please." Clint hates the desperate wobble in his voice, but damn, he needs this.

Barnes has a heavy hand with the belt, laying the strikes evenly over Clint's ass and thighs. Clint feels the pain building, and he wants to fight it until--

He tips over that edge. It helps to know that the man beating his ass is a world-famous terror, Clint will live or die tonight at the man's will, and if they are attacked, the fucking winter soldier can handle all comers. Clint floats on it, the endorphins flooding his system and the stress falling away. 

With most scene partners, he has to stay alert unless he has Nat spotting for him. She isn't thrilled to be that involved in his sex life though, so he's usually kept from falling this deep in his head by sheer self-preservation.

He's flying on it, it hurts so good, and he's tied to himself, hobbled, and he is being made to take it. No counting, no talking, just a doms hand in the small of his back and the chance to be good. 

When the tension falls away from his muscles, and the belt keeps coming, Clint can't help but say;

* * *

"Thank you." The asset is surprised by Bartons thanks. The man has relaxed into the bed, and there is a soft smile on his face. When the asset lifts his hand, Barton lifts his ass to chase the contact. 

"Easy, easy" the words fall from the Assets mouth. There is a possessiveness rising in his chest that the asset doesn't quite know what to do with. The asset drops the belt and kneels on the bed tightly behind Barton. The assets knees pin the fabric of Barton's pants, so he can't pull away or spread his legs when the asset grabs a handful of hair and pulls Bartons head back.

"Were you planning to fuck her? Was sex on the table, or was it just about the pain?"

"Oral. I was going to eat her out, and she said she would blow me while I was tied down." The words are breathy and a little mangled, but the asset is stressing his airway in this position. 

The asset lets go and rocks his hips forward. Barton groans, deep and throaty before uttering a quick and desperate 'fuck, please'.

The asset thinks of all the ways he had been tied, and of how he would like to tie Barton to suck him. Barton needs it; clearly, it would just be proper care and keeping of an Avenger. 

"Where's your plug?" The asset asks.

"Under the bed, this side, there's a bin --"

The asset stands and reaches for the bin. It's clear plastic, and the lid is askew, but inside there are several plugs and dildos. There is a purple one partially unwrapped. It has a curved bit at the end and a suction cup at the base. The asset grabs a condom from the box in the bin, tears it open, and rolls it over the toy. The asset pulls on a pair of nitrile gloves from Barton's kit, and then he takes the lube and slicks the toy, and the fingers on his right hand. Barton lifts his hips, pressing into the assets touch as the asset works a couple of fingers into Barton. 

It's gratifying, to watch Barton struggle in his restraints, not to escape, but for more of what the asset is doing to him. After a few perfunctory thrusts of his fingers, the asset replaced them with the toy, pushing it into the sounds of a glorious, blissed out groan. The asset strips off his gloves and drops them in the little trash by the bed. It is plastic, and purple, in a wicker weave pattern. 

The asset finishes stripping Barton of his pants and empties the pockets. There are several clusters of rope, and the asset shakes a couple loose, roughly measuring them against his arm span. He finds two that are approximately 30-foot lengths and turns to the bed. 

Clint is shaking and biting the sheets. 

The asset presses at the hinge of Barton's jaw, forcing him to release the bite, then holds his head up by the hair. 

"Please, please don't leave me." Clint's eyes are forced tightly shut, and he is trying to turn his face away. He bites his lip when it is plain he wants to beg some more. 

The asset contemplates what, if anything, to say.

* * *

Clint thinks he knows that Barnes is staying with him. But he's so far down, and his fears feel so real and big, and more than anything he wants to be tied tightly and then petted. He just wants to be held close. 

He bites back his desperation as Barnes wraps the rope around his thighs. Clint can tell that Barnes is doing something with the rope behind Clint's back, but he can't tell what until Barnes flips him, and Clint recognizes the sling tie. It forces his knees up and out and anchors the tielines across and behind his back to the other knee. It's a great tie, low stress and one of his favorites. 

It's overwhelming, being in his back, tied open, and this vulnerable. It feels so good, so safe, even before Barnes rolls a condom on Clint's dick and sucks him down.

Clint thrashes, the knots holding tight and his wrists still snug in the cuffs that are still zip tied to his chest harness. Barnes' mouth is heavenly sin, and he is working the dildo in short little thrusts in counterpoint when he bobs his head, and Clint feels like he is going to fall apart at the seams.

It's probably only a handful of minutes later that Clint is on edge and trying to map trajectories in his head to keep from coming, but it could have been seconds for how fast and blurry time felt right now. He had to tell, had to make sure he was allowed to --

* * *

The asset like this configuration. It was every bit as fun to suck a cock as it had been to eat a girl out -- when he wanted to be here. It was even better that he got to tie Barton in place to play with him. 

This is fun in a way sex hasn’t been since his first incarnation got his draft letter. Hurried hand jobs were never as fun as a long, drawn-out chance at eating a girl out. There is something wonderful about making them squirm in his arms. Clint is every bit as fun as the dames who used to hop up on the counter so Bucky could crawl under their skirts. 

The Asset likes this, the feel of Clint's cock on his tongue, the rope under his hands. He likes the base of the dildo in his palm and the way Clint is thrashing. Clint is making these amazing needy little sounds, and the asset never wants to stop. This is the most human he has felt in ages. 

* * *

"Please, don't wanna come unless you say so." Barton gets the words out, even though it's hard. 

“Give it up for me,” Barnes growls out the words, and Clint strains at his ties and let's go. He is limp and floaty as Barnes gathers him up. When they settle, Clint finds that he is straddling Barnes lap, his face tucked into Barnes collarbone. 

Clint rubs his face against the henley that Barnes is wearing and lets himself drift off. 

* * *

The asset listens to Barton’s breathing settle and can feel his pulse. When Barton is sleeping, the asset reaches for the purple throw and the grey comforter, tucking them around Barton. 

It's a little tricky to untie him without waking him up, but the asset has performed fiddlier tasks under greater pressure. The real kicker is getting his combat knife to cut the zip ties without dinging Clint’s skin. He manages it and ties the ropes so there is tension enough between two anchor points (the headboard and to the frame midway down the bed) so that Barton won’t be able to untie himself. The asset ties Clint's feet together, and slides into bed behind him, wrapping his arm around the other man. 

It feels so good just to hold another human being, and the asset slides off to sleep. 


End file.
